


Maybe We Can Love Her Like She Deserves

by bramblefae



Series: Dailisa Cousland [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 19:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bramblefae/pseuds/bramblefae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and Nathaniel work some things out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe We Can Love Her Like She Deserves

Alistair walked into the sitting room that was common to his bedroom and several of the guest rooms.  He almost went straight into his room when he realized someone was sitting in a chair near the fire. He made a face because it was Nate Howe. The man had come back from his mission to find that mage with only the barest information. 'I found him. He's gone now.' was what he'd said, Alistair remembered. That was two days ago. Dailisa was shattered, because she believed this tragedy to be her own fault for not being there, for not being omniscient, for not...well. He understood. It was one of the things they had in common-that desire to save everyone. And the despair that came with the inevitable failures to do so.  Apparently, Howe wasn't taking it very well, either. He was sitting in the chair in his leathers with his elbows on his knees and his head down with that unkempt mess of coal black hair hanging down, hiding his face. Alistair noticed that his feet were bare, though.

The king made another face because he would like to hate this man, but he wasn't going to get the chance, probably. Well, that was as good a place as any to start with this.

"You know, I would really like to not like you."

Nathaniel looked up slowly, his grey eyes rimmed with red, like he'd been crying, or drinking, or not sleeping. They narrowed at Alistair in distaste, leaving Alistair to wonder, for the first time, if maybe Howe felt the same way about him.

"Aren't you the bloody king?" Howe said slowly. "Don't like me." he lowered his head again, obviously dismissing Alistair. Alistair felt his eyebrows go up into his hairline. Maker, this man was a bastard. But, this needed to be sorted. He walked to the fire and sat on the settee, facing Nate.

"I...I am going about this the wrong way.  Have you talked to Dailisa today?"

Nate sighed and then brought his head up to fix a fairly malevolent gaze on Alistair. "Can we not do the jealous posturing today? I just..." He looked away from Alistair's astonished face to something over the King's shoulder. "...I just don't have the fortitude to pretend I understand today." As an obvious afterthought, he added, "Your Majesty."

Alistair was utterly taken aback. He bit back several indignant retorts before he finally settled on, "I thought maybe you'd have wanted to see how she was doing. Apparently I was wrong." He stood to leave, hoping this worked and wasn't disappointed when Nathaniel said, without looking up, "I'm not ready."

That wasn't what Alistair was expecting. He sat back down and said, "Pardon?"

"I said, 'I'm not ready.'" Howe looked up at Alistair. Alistair thought that he might just have the most hopeless look he'd ever seen. "I will have to face her, both as my Commander and as the woman..."He gestured helplessly, then pulled his hair away from his face as if to put it up, then let it go. "Well...you know.  I failed. If I'd just waited. I didn't have to go hunt.... **Fuck**." Nate put his head down again, covering his head with his arms in hopeless frustration.

Alistair looked at the top of Nathaniel's head with a good deal of sympathy. "She thinks it's her fault, you know. She's been sitting in the center of our bed all day because she can't bear to face you and the blame she thinks you must aim at her because she didn't protect Anders. Or Justice. Or you." Nate slowly raised his head as Alistair spoke, until he was looking at the King.

"What? None of this was her fault."  Alistair nodded sadly.

"You're right, Nate. It's not her fault this happened. It's not your fault, either." Howe opened his mouth to protest. Alistair held his hand up to stop him. "No, Nate. Look. From what you and she have said, I think the mage and this...spirit would have...I guess, merged, even if you were there. That ex templar warden had already decided he was going to betray Anders, for whatever reason."

"But if I'd been there..."

"If you'd been there," Alistair interrupted him, "You'd have been among the body parts and Anders would still be out wandering around by himself."

Nate closed his mouth on whatever he'd been going to say and thought to himself for a few moments. Then he said, "Maybe."

He stood, as if to leave, and Alistair said, "Well, if that's settled, I have a few things I would like to say to you." Howe looked down at him, his eyes narrowed again.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "I'll try to control the jealous posturing and I am not sure I care whether you understand it or not, Howe. Have a seat."

Nate dropped gracefully back into the chair and tilted his head and Alistair leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's wrong, actually, I do care. Yes, I'm jealous. A bit. Aren't you?"

Nathaniel looked mildly incredulous and sat forward, unconsciously mirroring Alistair. "Of course I am. What I don't understand is what in the Maker's name do YOU have to be jealous of, man?!"

Alistair blinked at Howe, grinned, and then grew serious. "You really...Have you never seen the way she looks at you? I am constantly terrified that one day you'll ask her to choose, and then I will lose her."

Nate sat back, still incredulous. "I...have several things to say to that. First-I would never put her in the position of having to choose. She loves you, you have to know that. She's your wife, for Andraste's sake. She chose you." He gave Alistair a bitter look. "You get to look at her every day and think to yourself, 'Damn. That woman is *mine*.'"

Alistair opened his mouth, but Nate continued, "Second, I get to love her, but I have to be careful, because it would kill me if she suffered at all because of it. I have to pretend that I don't want to wrap my arms around her every time I see her. I have to act as if I don't want to put her against a wall and have her until I can't see. Don't you understand, Alistair? I am not interested in taking anything away from you. Least of all that amazing woman. She loves you so much that to take that part away would change her so much that she wouldn't even BE her."

He stood up and started pacing in front of the fire like a caged cat. Alistair watched the other man. None of this had ever occurred to him, of course. And his wife was stuck in the middle of the bullshit between these two men.

"There has to be some way for us to be able to live with this."

Nathaniel stopped and crossed his arms, looking at Alistair. "What do you propose? Your Majesty?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "I propose, Howe, that we stop baiting each other every chance we get. For starters." Nate narrowed his eyes then snorted and sat back down.

"I can't imagine what this is like for her." Nate said. He looked up and met Alistair's eyes. Alistair looked down at his hands.

"We're a couple of right assholes."

Nate's mouth twitched. "Speak for yourself. Your Majesty." Alistair rolled his eyes as Nathaniel sighed went on. "I am not trying to compete with you, Alistair. That's asinine. Why can't we both love her? It doesn't have to be about proving which of us is more worthy, does it?"

Alistair gave Nate a rueful look. "Well, I'll tell you, I think fighting it out would make *me* feel better, but you're right. She seems to love us both, without reserve, although I will freely question her taste in men, given the state of us." Howe snorted as Alistair went on. "It would make things a good deal easier for everyone if the two of us could figure out how to be friendly."

Nate sat back and eyeballed Alistair. "You've sparred with her, yes? Speaking of fighting. How often does she beat you?"

Alistair blinked. "Ehm. About half the time. We're pretty evenly matched, although I think that's only because my reach is a good deal longer than hers. Why?"

Nathaniel looked smug. "She can only beat me about half the time, too." He flashed a grin. "I'm not all that strong, maybe, but I'm fast as thought. We *could* fight, if you think it would help."

Alistair smirked. "Fast as thought...Modest, too. You know, it might actually be a good idea for me to train against someone who can come at me like an assassin would, I suppose."

He sobered then. "When I said that I didn't want to like you, Howe, I only meant that it was too late. You seem a decent man and maybe, between us, we can work out how to love that woman the way she deserves."

Nathaniel chuckled quietly. "Probably not, but maybe she'll keep us around anyway." He stood and stretched. "Maybe I should go talk to her about...all this." Alistair stood as well.

"Maybe we should both go. She's in the bedroom. "

Nate met Alistair's eyes. "Are you really alright with me being around?"

Alistair took a deep breath, exhaled and said, "I'm taking you into my bedroom, knowing that my wife is in there in her night clothes. Nothing like jumping right in, yes?"

As the two men walked toward the bedroom the king shared with Dailisa, Nate said, "If it comes to it, I'll try not to make you look bad in there."

Alistair snorted. "That's the one thing I'm not worried about, Howe." and clapped the taller man on the back. "Well, Maker help us both, Nate." he added as he opened his bedroom door, motioning for Nathaniel to go in first.


End file.
